


Witching Hour

by exocholic



Series: Three A.M. [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 07:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15019379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exocholic/pseuds/exocholic
Summary: Chanyeol: “in my presence - let go”.





	Witching Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted at [AFF](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1008402/4)

He tosses and turns, switching positions practically every minute, trying hard to find that one comfortable spot that is enough to lure him to sleep. But all attempts are futile and it's been hours since he went to bed; since he closed his eyes the first time that night - and he is _still_ goddamn wide awake.

 

It usually works: counting sheep. Picturing them jumping over the fence as he begins from 1 to 99, back to 1, and slowly losing consciousness before he reaches the 200 mark. He had conditioned his brain to shut off when he does. A sort of intangible sleeping pill effect. Not tonight it doesn’t work, already passing 400 and he’s now given up. His mind was _too_ awake, in a haywire of thoughts upon thoughts, upon thoughts, as if they were a raging river stream. Worry piling on top of the other that he doesn’t even know what he is worrying about anymore. Worries enough to have his heart pounding as if he were in some intense race in the brink of death.

 

His body is exhausted, but not his mind, unfortunately.

 

Baekhyun sighs for the umpteenth time. He checks the clock by the bedside table, a blaring three in white led. Seeing the seconds pass without feeling an ounce of sleepiness was aggravating. The long hand of the mechanical clock across his bed, barely visible with it's almost faded glow-in-the-dark effect, creating some deafening ticking. Even though in reality, his room was at its most peaceful. He's already starting to feel hungry, too, because the last he ate was dinner at seven which was hours ago.

 

“Aghh!” He huffs angrily snapping to a seat utterly frustrated. Baekhyun slides down to the floor, folding his legs to his chest and sighs once more, hopeless. So it is one of those nights, he guesses, where sleep will come to him by the time the sunrise appears. If it even does.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The trees outside his opened window flutter in the wee morning breeze through the drizzles of the weather. The sky a canvas of grayed strokes. Distant sounds of cars and sirens from the nearby highway echo in the air.

 

It puts a little smile on Baekhyun’s lips, the peace of the outside. A scene that at least makes up for the exhaustion that weighs him. If only he wasn't being attacked by his grim thoughts - of anything and everything that easily makes him miserable: the awful loneliness, the insecurities that came in a surge, and that self-loathing and his hopeless life gnawing at the back of his mind - then he wouldn't mind staying up so late just to listen to the rain pour down.

 

He reaches out to his phone on the bedside table. His retreat to find that desperate distraction to ease the chaos in his thoughts.

 

The screen’s brightness makes him squint. If his mother saw him, she would probably go on an hour lecture about eye care and if he wants to ruin his eyesight. But he couldn't be bothered at the moment to open his lights or care at all. The blanket of darkness is where he gets the most comfort in these times. Self-care was the least of his worries, not even a given thought at that moment, to be honest.

 

Like every night that he ends up lying awake at such ungodly hours, Baekhyun goes straight to his message app, contemplating whether he should send a friend a text or not. He decides against it when he sees the time stamped on his phone, and instead surfs the internet mindlessly without a goal.

 

Maybe it isn’t a good idea to send any of his friends a message at this time of night only to say hi. What if their phones were out of silent and his irrelevant text wakes them up. Perhaps it was too much to ask, too selfish of him, to hope for them to be awake at this time of night only to cater to his loneliness.

 

He stares at Chanyeol’s chat window, and contemplates once more, longer, if he can send the man a message in this dead of night, to seek the company he craves. Would it be too selfish, to want his presence beside him, to be in the security of the man’s warmth he always gave. But Baekhyun knew Chanyeol enough to know the young man follows a proper sleep schedule. Even more ashamed when the last message was timed no more than four hours ago, telling him a sweet goodnight before he retires after a full day’s work.

 

Baekhyun shakes his head and sighs. Just because he couldn't sleep, doesn't mean other’s should suffer too. Just because he craved comfort, doesn’t give him the right to take Chanyeol’s own away. To be a burden.

 

No matter how desperately in need he is: Of someone. Of Chanyeol.

 

Perhaps it’ll be better to disappear. One less problem for them to deal with.

 

♣

 

As predicted, Baekhyun only finally falls asleep when daylight breaks; the birds chirping his lullaby. One would think that if he fell asleep so late, then he would end up waking late too making up for lost time, but that's not true for Baekhyun.

 

When he opens his eyes, the digital clock greets him with a grating eight in the morning, roughly after only three hours of shut-eye later.

 

Baekhyun tries to fall asleep again, but it was proving to be hard when his mind is back to being active and just Too. Damn. Chaotic. He sighs, giving up once more. His eyes may be heavy and his body still exhausted, but with his thoughts going haywire awake again it will be hard to find peace, again.

 

He hates it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


That wasn't the last night he spends time with the wee morning demons. It goes on for the next following days and the next, and the next - that his body clock is definitely ruined once again. Not a surprise though. One night of loss usually triggers into many more; with by far the last one lasting as long as months on end.

 

Insomnia, they call it. Baekhyun refers to it as Hell On Bed.

  
  
  
  
  
♣♣♣

  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol unsurprisingly notices Baekhyun’s change. Despite not meeting often because they had their own separate lives to prioritize, he can still tell when something is off with his boyfriend.

 

The signs were there. Perhaps not as obvious to the average eye but to Chanyeol who knows Baekhyun like the back of his hand, it was pretty clear.

 

His mood swings became more frequent, often times cranky and irritable. His smiles and laughter had more moments of being visibly a facade Baekhyun is trying hard to put up. He switches from losing appetite to an unsatiated hunger in absurd intervals. He was often more tired like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. The dark circles of his eyes, that he so desperately hides under makeup but did not go unnoticed by his boyfriend’s keen sight either, not helping his state. Though the biggest sign was his extroverted personality, reduced to a fish scramming to hide in any sign of a social event.

 

Chanyeol can easily pinpoint the signs he has long learned to look out for over the years they have been together. When Baekhyun’s smile doesn't reach his eyes or his laughter quiet. Moments when he would space out, staring into an abyss where nothing around him suddenly exists and takes about five calls before Baekhyun snaps out and responds to his name. Times when he would plop himself onto Chanyeol’s arms before he could even greet him a hello when he visits. Clinging to him like a koala, murmuring into his neck how warm and comfy he is when he was usually shy initiating affection. When he suddenly cuts everyone out and talking - socializing - became more of a burden, that others pass off as no more but him being tired and busy.

 

To everyone else, no one even bats an eyelash when Baekhyun stops being the ray of sunshine that he is. To Chanyeol, concern instantly fills through when barely any words leave his boyfriend’s mouth, or even if just simple grunts and groans are made but nothing more. As the saying goes, “a deafening silence”.

  
  
  


Usually, Baekhyun’s depressive moments start to slowly fade in a few weeks time. His sun bright smiles will return, optimism sometimes obnoxiously reeking out of him. His old joyous habits resurface, greeting people with a lovely grin and initiating chit-chatting with friends every chance he gets. He was a bee buzzing from flower to flower, with no hindrance feeding the people around him of the sweet honey that dripped his personality. No trace of the Baekhyun that looked at the world like one big fearsome erupting volcano.

 

But the biggest sign of all that only Chanyeol can point - was the light that shined in his eyes and the crinkles that marks valleys upon valleys at their edges as they turn into crescent moons - every time he looks at him.

 

It was a bittersweet cycle, that Chanyeol hated but loved at the same time. Hate, for the suffering Baekhyun has to go through was painful. Love, for what comes out of it after. A cycle that most of the time, Baekhyun is able to survive on his own.

 

This time, however, was one of those where he needed more help than he can manage by himself.

  
  


It was at his home on one dim afternoon over a month passing when Chanyeol notices the marks on Baekhyun’s left wrist. The young man was clearly trying to hide it: his choice of long sleeves covering past his wrists and only for his fingers to merely peek. It was just a glimpse, a few seconds of his boyfriend playing with Toben, his cute little pup, that has the hem riding up enough for Chanyeol to catch.

 

Baekhyun was on the verge of breaking point.

 

Chanyeol doesn’t say a word at first. Allowing Baekhyun to enjoy his moment with the puppy, more than glad to hear genuine giggles and laughter coming out of his lips. A rarity in these occasions of difficulty.

 

When Baekhyun finally tires from playing, retreating to Chanyeol’s arm on the couch who invited him wide, does he slowly begin to pry him open.

 

“So, Baek, how are you?”

 

They weren't serious wounds when Chanyeol subtly checks, caressing Baekhyun’s wrist enough to expose some skin like no more but an affection touch. Thank goodness. But it was streaks of swelled up red lines, some looking inevitable to leave a faint scratch of a wound. One after the other, messy horizontals after horizontals, tainting across his olive veins. It seems they were made recently, perhaps a mere yesterday in the late night or actually just before they met this afternoon. Chanyeol knows all too well what this means - Baekhyun scratching his wrists with his nails embedded deep in substitute to an actual sharp object - as he struggled with himself all alone trying hard to hold on.

 

Baekhyun giggles peeking up towards him. “Didn't you ask me that a while ago?” He smiles, any trace of soullessness that he sports around people, not Chanyeol, absent. “It was the first thing you asked too”.

 

Chanyeol hums exposing the wrist in his hold, “yeah, but I mean… _how are you_ , exactly?” immediately making Baekhyun realize what he actually means.

 

Speechless, Baekhyun practically snaps away from him and sits up straighter and tense, avoiding his gaze in an obvious instant. He tries to hide the marks again, but Chanyeol was quick to not let go.

 

No matter how open Baekhyun is to Chanyeol, he still continues to restrain himself from spilling everything. It was a habit learned growing up - to not be a trouble on anyone else.

 

“They're noth--”

 

“Don't tell me they're nothing, Byun Baekhyun!” Chanyeol cuts off any excuses. The abrupt change of his tender sweetness to that of repressed anger switches something off in Baekhyun. “How many times do I have to tell you that you cannot hide anything from me. Especially not something like _this_.”

 

This is where Baekhyun finally breaks down. The last layer of wall falling into pieces; the last pour of agonizing, uncontrollable emotions filling to the brim. Tears starting to slip out when the guard he had been miserably failing to keep up is let go. The trembling of his body and the pace of his heart a race. Any trace of concern evident in Chanyeol’s voice is ignored as Baekhyun is overtaken by a storm of chaos.

 

It was alarming yet also amusing, how he can be the happiest one minute and a disaster the next - just by a mere trigger of words or a little, insignificant, event.

 

“I’m… I’m--” Baekhyun can't speak straight, can't even form the simple words of _I'm sorry_ without feeling his heart clench in fear and peaked anxiety that shot through the roof without warning. He broke his promise, he messed up, again.

 

He still tries hard to hide the lines he drew aggressively on his wrist in the ungodly hours of this morning, finally whispering the short words of apology in the most coherent manner he can manage. “I'm sorry-- Chanyeol, I'm sorry…”

 

 _He wasn't strong enough_.

 

Chanyeol sighs and without a word brings Baekhyun into his embrace. There, he lets him cry, soaking his shirt damp and the sting of his boyfriend's nails digging his arm where he clutches tight. Until it subsides, all Chanyeol will do is hold him.

 

“I am here,” he whispers again, and again, “I am here and I will not leave”.

 

No matter how many times this has happened, no matter the long months that passed that has only progressively worsened, Chanyeol will never get used to it. While he has learned for every episode Baekhyun goes through - how to deal with him, how to help him, stretching his patience beyond belief, the words to say and what to do - it had and will always be an exhausting experience, and a lie to deny that Chanyeol is slowly getting tired of it.

 

“Let it all out, go on.” He pats Baekhyun’s head affectionately, rocking their bodies like a lullaby of comfort. “I am here. I am always here,” he whispers to his ears over and over again.

 

He is tired of seeing Baekhyun suffer. Tired of the painful cries he always has to witness that only breaks his heart into a million pieces. All Chanyeol wants is to see his blinding happiness, for them to remain an eternity and never be wiped out. Because Baekhyun deserves all the good in the world.

 

Baekhyun, who is the sunshine of everyone around him, the source of joy for his contagious smiles and laughter, his witty responses and sun bright presence, his kindness and selfless personality - for Chanyeol to be a bear witness of the truth he hid behind closed doors, the dark face that is exposed after the many layers of masks are taken off - it was painful; truly, utterly painful.

  
  


“Will you talk to me now?” Chanyeol asks after Baekhyun’s cries ease to little trickles of tears, still wrapped in his arms as he leaves pecks of sweet kisses on the crown of his head. “Please talk to me, Baekhyun. I want to help.”

 

Baekhyun sniffles his words, still unable to form any coherency even after a minute of silence.

 

_“Are you not tired?”_

 

One question was enough for Chanyeol to understand. A question that has been asked so many times in the past he has lost count. Dwindling by a word each time: that began from a long tirade of self-doubts and insurmountable insecurities to just an immediate understanding of a mere few words.

 

“I am tired,” Chanyeol answers truthfully, “but not of loving you.”

 

“It pains me to keep seeing you like this, hurting yourself. I hate having to see you suffer all broken. I'm tired of worrying if I'll still have you tomorrow - _because I love you_.” Chanyeol professes like a first time. He squeezes Baekhyun closer to his body, to hopefully emphasize his sincerity. His own eyes tearing up as he caresses the lines on Baekhyun’s wrist. “I love you and all I want for you is to be happy.

 

“ _That_ is what I am tired of - to see you in pain, trying to suffer alone.”

 

Chanyeol lovingly stares into the eyes that wholeheartedly trusted him, depended on him, needing him the most. “You are not a burden to me.” He says with weighed clarity to the unspoken question. “You never will be.

 

“So I ask of you, that in my presence - _let go_.”

  
  
  
  
  
♣♣♣

  
  


Baekhyun still loses sleep. He still greets the wee morning demons. Still unable to bother any of his friends in such a blackened night. But he was better.

 

It was a battle that will not end in one night after sweet words are said. But come the morning he wakes, after just a little of three to four hours, sometimes even a pitiful two, he waits for Chanyeol’s call - after spamming his chat with no second thoughts of late night nothings.

 

He waits for his message to ding his phone. Chanyeol’s name marked with a heart popping in that assigned special ringtone solely for the man alone. “How many hours this time?” it’d say, their own way of saying their sweet good mornings. And Baekhyun would count in his fingers, a handful mostly, yet with a smile as he replies with joy.

 

He waits for his call to come through. Chanyeol’s photo winking and posed with a finger heart filling his screen. Then to hear a voice sometimes rough from slumber. “Sweetheart, tell me you at least dreamt of me in those short three hours,” he would hear, humor laced in the man’s voice as he tried to shake the sleep away. And Baekhyun, as tired and exhausted he physically feels from the lack of proper rest, would giggle and roll on his bed to greet the sunlit window bright with his grin.

 

Sometimes, when the time permits, Baekhyun would indeed get a good night’s sleep. A proper eight or at least a good six. With Chanyeol’s arms woven around him, securing him tightly inside his warm serenity. His voice will not be muffled by distance and a receiver but will be a breath away from his ear, his forehead, his nape, his neck, so many times his lips. His lullaby will be filled with deep voices and inconsequential stories; roaming fingers soothing his heart and mind.

 

In Chanyeol’s presence - there was still chaos, but blurred and irrelevant. Left forgotten at the sides as no more but background noise.

 

It was a process - a step by step learning. Every foot forward a remarkable progress. It was an individual battle, but he wasn’t alone.

 

Perhaps one day, he can bother his friends at three in the early morning. Spam their phones with his senseless humor, pointless links that led to memes, and even incoherent blubbers of worshiping a good story he found online.

 

For now, Chanyeol is here to help him. For now, he is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> ► Wrote this ages ago, when I suffered constant nights of having trouble sleeping, but never came to post it. Gotten a bit better now. I no longer fall asleep at like… six in the morning at least, lol. So, this is just me talking to myself with myself. Excuse me please for this mess. Heh. I need like… a hibernation vacation.  
> ► Please also be minded that while the plots of these series are similar to each other, they may or may not necessarily connect. Honestly, this is really just my escape AU so 90% of the time I have no idea what I’m writing.
> 
> ► Decided to just cross-post these series. Now cross-posted on AO3, that I'm still contemplating whether to move or not. as if I'm active pff.
> 
>  
> 
> ► Gain strength everyone!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ► Who has read Captive Prince? Let us be friends. LaMen is precious ♥ My bbs~


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